


appreciation

by wouldyouknowmore



Series: Uncle Loki [4]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Feelings, I never thought I would use that tag, Incest, M/M, Prom, uncle loki, urgent uncle needs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 19:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldyouknowmore/pseuds/wouldyouknowmore
Summary: Uncle Loki Part 4, in which there are cliche teenagey things, like prom, backseat goings-on, and of course,feelings.Thor’s fine. It’s his mess and his problem, so he’s just going to keep a lid on it and not set himself up for a conversation that includes the phraseIt may be best if we stop this, Thorand a pitying look. That would be worse than anything, worse than keeping it to himself and just coping with the whole unrequited love thing.So that’s what he’s doing on this bland Sunday morning. Coping. And if coping involves not going anywhere and ignoring Fandral and Sif’s texts and telling his mom that he’s skipping the senior prom next week and generally doing nothing at all apart from pouting, then that’s just the price he’s gotta pay.Because I had to fucking fall in love with my uncle,Thor thinks to himself, just to drive home how ridiculous it sounds, and flops backward on his bed.





	appreciation

**Author's Note:**

> The funniest thing is that in my notes at the end of the first one, I said, "I just needed to get it out of my system ok." Clearly that's working out.
> 
> Follows the first three fics in this [Uncle Loki series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1411381)! Please read those before this one :)
> 
> lokilovesthorki coming in with the beta assist as usual and I love her

Springtime. 

Thor graduates from high school in two months. He still hasn’t decided on a university, which his father reminds him of more often than he’d like. His friends still invite him to whatever shenanigans they get up to nowadays, but Thor rarely joins them. His grades are good, back to what they were before… things, but that has less to do with him caring and more to do with a “polite suggestion” his uncle had given him at the start of the semester that felt a lot like a threat. Not the fun kind either. 

(The fun kind usually goes something like, _Sass me again and see if you can sit comfortably for a week afterward_.)

(The answer to that is usually _no_, by the way. Thor’s tested it several times and has had pretty consistent results.)

And speaking of certain uncles and not being able to sit comfortably, his and Loki’s Thing is still definitely a Thing, and continues to be the same sort of Thing that it’s been from the start. Mostly. Occasionally Loki will surprise him with what Thor doesn’t dare consider to be _boyfriendy_ behavior, but he honestly doesn’t know what else to call it when he’s invited to stick around after a solid fucking for a little dinner and a cuddle and maybe round two. It doesn’t happen often, whatever it is, so Thor tries not to expect it.

Most of the time, though, their Thing is of the “Loki responds to Thor’s _hey you wanna _text with _ass up on the bed in 20 minutes_” variety, the “Loki calls him _good boy_ and comes down his throat and sends him on his way” variety, with some actual, you know, decent conversation scattered into their texting in between. And Thor is absolutely fine with this. He is. He’s really okay and fine and doesn’t want more, and he definitely doesn’t suspect that he may have actually fallen in love with Loki just a little bit. That would be crazy and maybe sort of pathetic, and he had definitely not gotten upset last month when Loki had missed a regularly occurring family dinner and Odin had told Thor, “I believe he said he had a date.” 

(Thor has not asked about this. It isn’t his business, he reminds himself for the thousandth time, and he’s pretty sure that Loki would be able to see the mild hysteria all over his face—as well as the reason behind it—if he did, so no thank you.)

Where this would wind up is not something Thor had considered all those months ago when he’d finally made his move. He hadn’t really expected it to work, first of all. But he can’t say that he had given any thought to how it would go, whether or not Loki would keep on doing whatever (whoever) else he was doing, how long it would last, how it would end… He was thinking with his dick to be perfectly honest, but somewhere along the line, some wires had gotten crossed, and now he finds himself imagining not just Loki railing him in creative ways, but stupid little interactions, domestic life, what it might be like to wake up in Loki’s bed or make him breakfast or get a _sweetheart_ out of him just for the hell of it in everyday conversation (instead of just Loki telling him to come). And every time he sits across from Loki for one of those rare dinners at his place, or gets a long, lingering kiss as a reward for good behavior, or Loki asks him how scholarship applications and exams are going, it gets easier for Thor to picture something more between them. 

He doesn’t think this is necessarily a good thing. 

Because soon enough, he’s going to go off to school and it’ll be too difficult to keep this up, or Loki will find someone his own age who makes him happy and isn’t his fucking nephew, and then what? Giving it up probably wouldn’t have been easy any time after that first encounter, but now? 

But Thor’s fine. It’s his mess and his problem, so he’s just going to keep a lid on it and not set himself up for a conversation that includes the phrase _It may be best if we stop this, Thor_ and a pitying look. That would be worse than anything, worse than keeping it to himself and just coping with the whole unrequited love thing. 

So that’s what he’s doing on this bland Sunday morning. Coping. And if coping involves not going anywhere and ignoring Fandral and Sif’s texts and telling his mom that he’s skipping the senior prom next week and generally doing nothing at all apart from pouting, then that’s just the price he’s gotta pay. 

_Because I had to fucking fall in love with my uncle, _Thor thinks to himself, just to drive home how ridiculous it sounds, and flops backward on his bed. 

“Dramatics, hm,” Loki observes from the doorway the moment he lands. 

Thor promptly jerks upright again. 

“Hey! What. What’s going on? Why are you here?” 

Loki’s been getting Thor hot under the collar for a couple years now, well before their Thing started, but something about finally admitting that he’s in love with the man makes him about a hundred times more attractive. His heart might flutter just a little bit at the sight of him right now if he’s honest.

“Am I not allowed to visit my nephew?” Loki replies, just before he shuts Thor’s bedroom door behind him and drops his pleasant smile. 

Thor knows the look that replaces it very well. And if he were naked and sprawled out on Loki’s bed instead of his own, it might bode well for him in the roundabout, glutton-for-punishment kind of way. Here, he’s less confident in his chances. 

“Frigga called me,” Loki says, low enough that he can’t be heard in the hall. “She said you aren’t going to your prom.” 

Well that’s hardly something that Loki needs to put on his serious, bossy voice for. 

“Yeah, I don’t really want—,” Thor begins, but before he can get any further, Loki cuts him a look that stalls the rest of the sentence on his tongue. Silence is the smart thing here, clearly.

“I don’t care about the prom, or whether or not you go to it. I care that your mother was concerned about you, so she called _me_, Thor. _Me_. I care that, last week, Odin asked me if you’d applied for some scholarship and then said to me, ‘Why is it that my brother knows more about what’s going on with my son than I do these days?’”

There’s a sudden, almighty lurch in Thor’s gut. 

“They’re paying attention,” Loki insists, “and if you can’t get your shit together and behave like a normal teenager for a little while longer, they’re going to pay _closer_ attention, and there will be no more of this.” 

He gestures between them while Thor’s heart starts pounding against his ribs. 

“So you _will_ be present for these last several weeks of your high school experience, and you _will_ suck it up and go to your stupid dance with your friends and get drunk and worry your parents for normal reasons. Do I make myself clear?”

After a long moment to process, or at least make a concentrated effort at processing the very real danger that he should have seen headed his way, Thor finally nods. 

“Okay,” he says. He hasn’t gone through all of this pining and coping to give up now, after all.

With a sigh, Loki steps up to the edge of the bed, tilts Thor’s chin upward to meet his eyes, and says even more quietly, “Good boy.”

The fact that Thor’s mother is in the next room doesn’t stop the warm little thrill that runs up his spine. He’s pretty sure nothing is ever going to stop that, to be honest. But what Thor’s mother being in the next room should definitely prevent is Loki leaning down to kiss him—but Loki does anyway, soft and chaste and slow, and Thor is caught between letting his eyes slide shut and savoring this rare opportunity, and listening in a state of paranoia and slight panic for any and all noises outside his door. 

He doesn’t suffer for long, though, and a moment later, Loki pulls away and gives him a searching sort of look that Thor meets with what he’s sure is a glazed-over stare. God, if he had any doubts before, that kiss took care of them. 

(What would Loki do if he just blurted it out, he wonders. _Hey, I’m pretty sure I love you. _… But that’s a terrible idea, and he knows it, and it’s never gonna happen.)

“Now, continue to be a good boy and put your shoes on,” Loki tells him. “I won’t have you showing up in some cheap rented tux that doesn’t even fit.”

———

An hour later, Thor finds himself in one of the stores responsible for Loki’s obscenely fitted trousers and sharp suits, though he considers making a break for it when he flips over the tag attached to a plain white button-down hanging nearby and sees the price. He’s pretty sure that Loki plans to pay for this little outing, but that doesn’t mean Thor is totally comfortable with him dropping this sort of cash on him. 

(Though a little part of him whispers _sugar daddy_ in his ear while he watches Loki browsing through a rack of jackets, and somehow that makes it easier to bear.)

(… Sugar _uncle_? Is that a thing?)

An employee greets Loki by name after a moment (and Thor finds himself turning at _Mr. Borson_, confused, before he realizes she means Loki and tries to keep from turning red—ha, implications). But when Loki introduces Thor as his nephew, the young woman gives Thor a sidelong look and says, “Hmm, of course.”

Watching Loki while he tries not to react to this is an absolute delight, Thor notes.

He’s shoved in a dressing room with an armful of options within a few minutes, and after lackluster responses to several variations on what he’s pretty sure is the same suit, he lets out a sigh loud enough for Loki to hear outside while he worms his way into another pair of pants in dark blue this time. 

“Stop your whining,” Loki calls through the door.

“Or what,” Thor mutters under his breath (more carefully this time—he doesn’t really want to find out what), and decides to skip the tie altogether. He’s pretty sure they’re strangling him slowly. He’s not sure about the vest here, but Loki insisted they try a three-piece in all of this mess, so he shrugs on the matching jacket and steps out with his shirt undone one more button than it really should be, like Loki wears his, just to mess with him. 

He’s met with a blank look and silence.

The other options had been met with immediate feedback, Loki pointing out what he thought worked and what didn’t, so Thor doesn’t really know what this means, and looks to their salesperson for guidance. 

“Oh,” is all she says. 

Okay.

He glances back at Loki, and now that he’s looking more closely, he can see that little twitch in his uncle’s jaw that means he can’t say what he really wants to say. It’s a common sight at the dinner table when the whole family gets together and Thor gives him a little cheek in front of everyone, actually, but what it could mean right now is beyond him. 

“Should I button this?” he asks, lost. “I didn’t like the tie that was supposed to go with this one, so…”

Loki stares at him a little longer and finally says, “This will do,” with a definite strain in his voice. 

After Loki snaps some brief instructions about what to take in and what to let out, Thor changes back into his own clothes and wanders far enough away that he can’t hear the total while everything is added up, and then the ride back is a quiet one. If he thought they might stop by Loki’s for like a quickie on the couch or something, he’s proven wrong when Loki pulls up to Thor’s house and unlocks the car doors.

“Thanks, by the way,” Thor tries. “I’ll pick up the suit on Friday.”

Loki gives him a _hm_.

“You alright?”  


“Fine.”

Loki doesn’t quite look it, though he does seem to be more himself than he had at the store, so Thor lets it go. 

“Okay. I’ll let you know how it goes. If, um. If I don’t see you before then.”

“That’s fine, Thor.”

He doesn’t get more than a distracted, half-assed attempt at a smile after this, so Thor nods and climbs out. And as he watches Loki pull out and drive away, he reminds himself that whatever he’s worried about here probably doesn’t mean anything. 

(Except the whole situation where he’s in love with his uncle and it’s going to end badly one of these days.)

(Except that.) 

———

Prom goes much as Thor expected it to. He’s the only one of his friends without a date, so they’d all gone to dinner ahead of time as a group and invited him, and made his lack of date more obvious. He’s the only one _not_ in a cheap rented tux that doesn’t even fit, sticking out even more for it (though the appreciative stares and comments aren’t awful). He’s the only one who spends most of the evening sitting against the back wall staring at his phone. He’s the only one who looks around and sees nothing but dumb teenagers and their drama and wants to get the hell out as soon as possible. Out of prom, high school, teenagey problems in general, all of it.

(Well. Maybe Coach Carter feels that way, chaperoning across the room, surprisingly stunning in her red dress. Thor’s pretty sure he saw her sneak a drink out of a hip flask earlier, but he doesn’t think she’d be inclined to share with him being a student and all.)

He knows he’s just a dumb teenager with drama too, just a different kind, he gets that, but no one here is dealing with what he’s dealing with. He’s the only one sitting here, wishing more than anything that he were older and more put together and not related to his uncle so that they could have something real, something serious. And maybe he’ll feel a little better once he’s done with school and moves out and finds a job, but it won’t change the fact that he’s Loki’s nephew, will it?

Ugh.

There are a few hours left before this thing is over, but Thor doesn’t think he’s allowed to leave early without calling attention to himself. Which he has been specifically advised against. What he _can_ do, however, is go outside and get some fresh air, so he goes from sitting inside staring at his phone to sitting _outside_ staring at his phone.

He’d like to text Loki, maybe _thx for forcing me into this _to probably get him into a little trouble, but before he can, Loki texts him first.

_I thought I told you to have fun._

Thor scoffs and types a reply.

_who says im not_

A moment goes by, and then a picture comes through: Thor, sitting on a bench under a streetlight, looking sad in his suit, staring at his phone.

He immediately looks up, and sure enough, there’s Loki’s car parked across the street. And since there’s no one out here to see…

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop stalking me,” Thor says with a grin as he climbs into the passenger seat, but Loki just rolls his eyes and pulls out into the road. 

It’s a good sign, a good reaction, and Thor breathes a little easier for it. 

It doesn’t take long for Thor to realize where Loki is driving him, though he doesn’t quite believe it until they’re parked in an empty gravel lot halfway up the hill behind town, and Loki turns to look at him. 

“Are you serious right now?” Thor asks, but Loki ignores him. 

“Look, Thor,” he begins. “You’re nearly finished with a significant time in your life, and instead of paying attention and being present, it seems to me as though you’re spending all your time worrying about what your uncle is up to and missing out on things that ought to be important to you.”

Thor opens his mouth to respond, but Loki holds up a hand and continues. 

“I’m not complaining. But I have to say that I won’t be complicit in you neglecting these key, albeit cliche teenage moments anymore.”

“Well, you just removed me from a pretty big one,” Thor says, not bothering to temper his sarcasm. The look that Loki gives him suggests that he’ll be paying for that later, but what Loki says next makes that slightly less worrisome.

“Tell me, Thor. What’s more high school cliche than getting fucked in the backseat at the local make out spot after prom?”

… Thor finds that he can’t really argue with that.

While Loki gets out of the car and relocates to the backseat like a civilized human being, Thor is less patient and simply crawls over the center console as quickly as possible, kicking the hazard light switch on in the process and having to carefully toe it off again before he gets settled. Loki, predictably, has something to say about this, but Thor doesn’t bother waiting to hear it before he climbs straight into Loki’s lap and kisses him. He’s allowed for a moment, too, but then Loki shoves him back and pulls a condom out of his pocket before he starts working on the fly of his own pants.

“Get those off,” he orders, nodding at Thor’s, and Thor scrambles to comply. 

Neither one of them are small enough to move freely in the backseat of Loki’s Volvo, but they make do, and after Loki rolls down a window in order for Thor to stick a leg out straight and get his pants off altogether, Thor straddles him again, heart pounding in his ears and cock already wet and aching. He’s used to sneaking in general, but this is a new level for them, and the nagging voice in the back of his head asking _what if the police are keeping an eye out here on prom night_ adds its fair share of urgency. 

Loki seems to feel it too, though he doesn’t say anything. Two slicked fingers hastily shoved into Thor at once and quickly removed again is all the prep he gets, and then he’s sinking down, letting his chin drop and holding onto the headrests of the front seats to keep steady. 

He’s never, ever going to get bored of this, he thinks, breathing hard. He can almost believe when he looks up at Loki that he could feel the same way, too. 

“My good boy,” Loki breathes, and Thor lets his eyes slide shut.

Fuck. 

His jacket was tossed in the front seat along with his pants, but once Thor lifts up and lets himself drop back onto Loki’s cock the first time, Loki starts in on the buttons of his vest, popping them open with quick fingers, and then his shirt follows. Thor would be glad to get rid of them both; he’s already sweating, but Loki just pushes them open out of the way and lets his hands roam up the length of Thor’s torso instead.

“Lovely boy.”

Thor swears out loud, and starts riding Loki in earnest. 

He doesn’t know how he was supposed to keep it casual when this is the sort of thing Loki says to him, the way he looks at him, the way his cock feels like it was made for the express purpose of splitting Thor in two. He could have fallen in love with just the physical aspect of this… relationship, if he can call it that. But then you add in the way Loki rolls his eyes and tries not to laugh at Thor’s dumb jokes, the way he checks up on him, the way he looks at him sometimes, like Thor is the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s doing his best not to let it show, like he’s looking right now…

Thor leans back a little further before he gets too lost and says something he shouldn’t, braces himself with both hands on the center console behind him. It has the unforeseen consequence of pushing his chest out and putting his tits on display, and judging by the look in Loki’s eyes when he glances down, all these hours Thor’s been spending at the gym are paying off.

And as a matter of fact, between Loki looking at him like dessert and the whole setting-the-pace-himself situation, Thor starts to feel a little surer, a little more confident, a little bit in charge, and it brings a heady rush with it. Maybe Loki doesn’t love him like he loves Loki, but Loki seeks this out on the regular, puts himself at risk to have it, frequently tells Thor how much he enjoys it, and you know what? Maybe that’s good enough. 

But either way, no matter how in control Thor feels at the moment, he knows he isn’t at all. If he were, he wouldn’t think twice about bending down and kissing Loki like he wants to, but he’s not going to do that. He also wouldn’t feel like he has to ask very nicely for Loki to touch him, because _fuck_, he’s getting so close. 

“Loki, please,” he says. It comes out a whine, as usual, but after this long, he’s learned not to care so much about that. 

“Please, what?” Loki asks. This doesn’t surprise Thor either.

“Please touch me.”

Loki looks down at his cock, hard and red and dripping, and absently licks his lips.

“I don’t think I will,” he says, and Thor hates him for just a moment. 

_“Shit,”_ Thor hisses. That thing about paying later is coming back to haunt him, he’s pretty sure. 

He bites his lip and picks up his pace, grinding down on Loki’s cock in a way that really only makes this worse for him. He hasn’t been able to come untouched before, though Loki seems intent on getting him there eventually. He doesn’t see that happening today either. Not before his legs give out on him. 

“Please,” he tries again. If he intentionally sticks his chest out a little further in the hope that it’ll persuade Loki, he doesn’t think anybody could blame him. 

“That smart mouth of yours gets you into trouble, Thor, surely you know that by now. Certainly after last time.”

Oh god… Thor closes his eyes and tries not to whimper out loud. Last time, aka three weeks ago when he’d gotten sarcastic with Loki at the wrong time and wound up strung out on the bed with a vibe up his ass and his hands fisted in the sheets, all while Loki sat in his armchair with a book, bumping the little remote anytime Thor felt like he was finally going to catch his breath. _No touching, you know how this works,_ Loki had said, hadn’t even had the decency to tie Thor’s hands for him… _That_ last time. 

(Thor frequently imagines how it would go if Loki _did_ restrain him someday… but that’s a whole other thing entirely.)

“But I don’t think all that is necessary this time,” Loki says after a moment, like he’s relishing the memory, too. “Go on and handle it yourself.”

He leans back, slides his hands down to Thor’s hips and leaves them there, looking perfectly content to stay put for the rest of the evening, the absolute asshole.

God, Thor loves him. 

But if this is the way it’s going to be, then fine. Thor takes him up on the offer, but makes sure to slide his fingertips over the back of Loki’s hand on the way to his cock, softly, just to be a pest. 

He could get off in about three seconds, he’s pretty sure, and the way Loki’s grip on him tightens up when he gets ahold of himself, and a little more as he starts trying to find his rhythm, does not help here. Maybe a few months ago he wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have wanted to drag it out a little longer the way he wants to right now, and he’s certain that that’s Loki’s fault… all his little lessons in patience are clearly having some effect on him. But even keeping his strokes steady and slow and deliberate, matching the way he rocks back and forth on Loki’s cock (rocking the whole car, actually), it still builds up quickly, too strong for him to last. Or to keep quiet; he lets out a breathy little whine when he realizes he’s on the edge, and Loki recognizes it for exactly what it is. 

“Let me see,” he says, low and insistent. “Let me see it.”

As though Thor has any choice in the matter whatsoever. 

He comes a moment later, striping his stomach, grinding down on Loki’s cock to draw it out as long as he can. And he hardly gets a chance to catch his breath and come back down to earth before Loki starts making a concentrated effort to kill him entirely; his first thrust up into Thor is enough to drive his head into the headliner with a _thunk_, though Loki does mutter, “Sorry, baby,” before he continues a little less forcefully. 

… _Baby. _Thor could fucking _swoon_, and it isn’t just the bump on the head either. That’s a first.

(_Baby_!)

And then, within the next several minutes, Loki fucks him stupid. That must be the case, because otherwise Thor would like to think that, under normal circumstances, he isn’t dumb enough to do what he does. Namely, trying to kiss Loki while he’s being fucked stupid, and mumbling on his way in, “Fuck, Loki, I l—”

Loki, by accident or just really good timing, saves him from certain disaster before he can finish his sentence, saying, “Oh, you look _so_ good on my cock,” at the same time Thor opens his mouth to ruin everything forever, and leaning in to mouth at his throat. Thor doesn’t even get to appreciate that statement, either, which normally would make his entire month. He’s too busy silently panicking and cursing himself—and then cursing out loud when Loki’s teeth make an appearance just below his collarbone. 

But he’s good, he’s all good. Right…? Loki didn’t hear him, or didn’t hear enough to figure out what was coming next. He wouldn’t still be driving up into Thor in a way that’s really, really distracting him from the whole near-death experience if he _had _heard. Or bending lower to close his lips around a nipple and suck—and oh _shit_, he can do that again anytime he likes. 

For once, Loki doesn’t seem like he plans to take his time here. Thor holds on as best he can, to Loki’s shoulder and then the back of the seat for better leverage (with one hand—the other is a little messy and he doesn’t want to smear come all over Loki’s upholstery), but it isn’t long before Loki all but sinks his teeth in halfway back up to his throat and comes as well.

“You alright there?” he asks several deep breaths later, rubbing his thumb over the skin where he’d bitten Thor. It’s a little tender, but Thor isn’t complaining. It might leave a mark, too, but Thor isn’t complaining about that either.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“And your head?”

“Probably concussed,” Thor says, and gives Loki a pout.

Loki rolls his eyes. 

“Always so dramatic.”

And while they awkwardly disentangle, clean themselves up (alas for Thor’s poor pocket square), and fish a very expensive and now slightly creased pair of pants out of the floorboard, Thor thinks to himself that, really, Loki doesn’t even know the half of it. 

———

Thor doesn’t protest when Loki says he’s taking him back. He doesn’t like it, but he knows why he has to finish it out. And maybe now that he’s in a better mood (now that the panic has worn off), it won’t be so awful. 

He straightens his hair out as best he can as Loki pulls up outside the prom, fixes his cuffs, all too aware of Loki watching him the whole time. Maybe he’s doing it wrong, but Loki doesn’t say anything. Just stares. 

“Well, thanks for that,” Thor says, trying for a smile, and starts to get out, but Loki stops him. 

“Just a moment, Thor.”

The panic has not actually worn off, it seems. Oh shit.

Thor holds his breath, waiting for his inevitable doom—but Loki just reaches into the center console and pulls out a hair tie. 

“Better just tie it back,” he says. 

(The fact that Loki owns a little elastic the same shade of rich, almost-black as his hair leaves Thor positively aching to see him with his hair up. Messy little bun, one of Thor’s school sweatshirts too big on him, oh holy _fuck_, what has he done—)

“And one more thing.”

_Oh god, what??_

“We’re going to have to find more excuses to put you in a suit.”

The look back at the shop suddenly makes more sense as Loki gives him another long, openly appreciative once-over, and Thor finds himself getting a little warm again. 

“You’re too pretty for your own good,” Loki says, leaning in, and then adds, “or mine, for that matter,” just before he kisses him. 

Loki’s kissed him a fair bit over the last several months. Not as much as he would like, or in the circumstances he would like, but enough to know that Loki kisses like the entire purpose of the exercise is to get Thor as hot and bothered as possible, like it’s more for Thor than it is for him. This one, however, feels like Loki is starving, but hasn’t forgotten his table manners. Thor immediately digs his fingers into Loki’s hair and lets out a stupid little whimper. 

God, it isn’t fair.

That Thor can speak at all when Loki pulls back just a little bit, just far enough to look him in the eyes (that should have done it right there), to glance back down at his mouth like he’s thinking he isn’t finished yet (definitely should have done him in), is a wonder in itself. But somehow, even with Loki this close, even while he’s fucking cradling his head in his hands, he finds the capacity to say, “If um. If I really do have a concussion, I probably shouldn’t be allowed to go to sleep. You might have to just take me home and keep me up all night.”

The way Loki’s face lights up, the blinding smile he gives Thor, is absolutely devastating.

“Nice try,” he says, laughing, and gives Thor one last little peck on the lips before he pulls away. 

It’s about fifty times harder to get out of the car now, but Thor manages it with a smile that not even the pining and the teenage drama and the bittersweet knowledge that this isn’t going to last forever can keep off his face. 

It’s good enough for right now.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just a helpless passenger on this Uncle Loki train pls someone save me
> 
> [twitter here](https://twitter.com/woulduknowmore)


End file.
